


A New Light

by ladyoneill



Series: Lady O's Teen Wolf Bingo Stories [82]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:14:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2035089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At The Jungle for a night of distraction and hopefully no strings sex, Peter sees someone he never expected to see dancing with another man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Light

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hurt/Comfort Bingo prompt: drugged. There is attempted rape with drugged and underage Stiles BUT Peter is the good guy here. This fic, from Peter's POV, is bizarrely humorous in places, and then it went all pre-Peter/Stiles (but Peter's not doing anything until Stiles is legal.) Also, Peter's gay. I've never made him gay; he's always bi though often with a preference for men. I dunno where my brain went...

Peter doesn't usually prowl The Jungle. It isn't his type of place--music too loud and dissonant, a lot of the clientele more boys than men--but the drinks are cheap and with his fortune in the hands of this unknown Benefactor--he will die a horribly painful and bloody death _after_ returning the money, every cent to Peter--beggars can't be choosers. He had to give up his membership in the more exclusive--and much more expensive--gentlemen's club across town.

At least, while many of the men are young, most are also damn pretty...and eager. 

Letting his eyes glide over several on the dance floor, they come to a surprised stop when lighting on one dancer in particular.

The young man has his arms looped around a somewhat older man's shoulders--college maybe--as they grind together.

Well, that's interesting. Peter could have sworn the boy was straight.

He _is_ sleeping with Peter's daughter, after all. Or was. 

Peter makes a mental note to scare the shit out of the kid at a later date about that--not that he really has a leg to stand on since Malia doesn't know he's her father and he's frankly baffled by how she exists at all since he can't remember sleeping with a female since banging that cheerleader on prom night in high school and that wasn't Malia's mother--and then settles back on his barstool and sips his rum and coke and watches Stiles dancing with another man.

When the two start kissing and groping right there in front of everyone, Peter decides that watching this for the moment is much more satisfying than picking up some twink to take to the backseat of his car. Pulling out his phone and pretending to check his texts, he surreptitiously takes several candid photos. The one where the other guy has his hand down the back of Stiles' pants will be particularly useful for future blackmail.

But, then, to his disappointment, Stiles pulls back, gives his date a flustered, flushed look, and shakes his head. While the other guy looks disappointed, he shrugs and they head to a table where he leaves Stiles to go to the bar for more drinks.

Peter watches Stiles bring himself under control and greet the guy with a tight smile as he returns with two glasses. Bored, he turns his attention back to his own desire and starts to narrow down his choices of potential fucks.

After about fifteen minutes, he's about to approach one hanging alone at the other end of the bar, a pretty young man, maybe twenty or twenty-one, whose been nursing the same drink for the whole time Peter's had his eye on him, when he sees Stiles leaning heavily against the guy he's with as he's guided across the dance floor not to the front door but towards the one to the alley.

Huh.

Frankly, Peter's surprised. It seemed obvious earlier that Stiles wasn't ready to go farther than kissing and groping in public, but people use the alley for only one reason. As they have to pass right in front of Peter, he quickly turns back to face the bar and, as he does, he gets a whiff of something off.

As with all the Pack, he knows Stiles scent--all horny young man, cheap deodorant and cologne, paper dust, graphite, medicine, ozone and just a hint of sage. There's something new there, something pervasive. As they move behind Peter, he hears Stiles mutter, his speech slurred.

"No...I don't...I don't want..."

"Sure you do, Stiles. You'll love it, my dick between those sinful lips. You've been begging for it."

Jesus...

The kid got himself roofied.

For a moment, he feels like banging his head on the bar because now he has to go rescue him. Peter doesn't do rescues. He's the villain!

Except even he would never drug someone for sex. Murderer, yes, rapist, never. 

Slamming back the rest of his drink, Peter follows the two young men out the door and into the dark alley. With his preternatural eyesight he can see perfectly and makes a face at the handful of other pairs having various kinds of sex in the dark corners. The aromas and sounds that assail him almost distract him from seeing Stiles being pulled around the other side of a, thankfully, empty dumpster. As he silently approaches them, he hears Stiles whimpering and the sounds of hands pulling at cloth.

"Come on, baby," the guy sneers, not even trying to sound seductive anymore. "You can barely stand, so just get on your knees so I can have my fun."

"I...whu--h? Jase, I...no..." As Stiles tries to protest, the sound of flesh hitting flesh reaches Peter and he nearly growls.

Okay, enough of this.

Stepping around the dumpster, he finds Stiles on his knees, face pressed to the guy's thigh as the asshole tugs his hard dick through his open zipper. There are tears and a red mark on Stiles' face.

Yes, definitely enough.

"I suggest you put that little thing away and get the fuck out of this alley before I phone his father, the sheriff, and have you arrested for drugging a minor and forcing sex on the same."

The man stares at him in surprise that quickly turns to belligerence as his free hand twists into Stiles' hair. "Get the fuck out of here, man. I didn't drug him. He's drunk. And he said he was eighteen."

Both amused and disappointed in the idiot, Peter takes another step towards him, his eyes never leaving the increasingly florid face. Still, he avoids the fist headed for his face, the other one for his stomach, and just snorts. "Oh, boy, you do not know what you are messing with."

Darting forward, he grabs the man's shoulder, spins him around to shove him into the wall and is pleased at the sound of the joint dislocating. The gargled scream of pain also pleases him and he smacks his forehead into the brick then drops him unconscious next to a lovely pile of dog feces. A kick sends his face into it.

He's not at all surprised when no one investigates the noises.

Shaking, Stiles has curled into a ball, and when Peter crouches and carefully touches his shoulder he doesn't react except to moan in the fear he stinks of.

"Okay, kid, let's get you out of here."

Stiles falls asleep as soon as Peter puts him in his car and he sleeps through the short drive and Peter carrying him into his apartment--purchased before the theft, though he's barely able to afford the insurance and utilities these days. Figuring that waking up in a strange bed would just alarm Stiles more, he places him on the couch, takes off his shoes and covers him with a throw, then goes to make a pot of coffee.

It's only about ninety minutes before Stiles stirs and makes a pathetic noise. Setting down his coffee cup--his second--and the book he's been reading, Peter settles comfortably in his chair and waits for those amber eyes to blink open in confusion.

"Whu--?" Stiles coughs, a frown crossing his face, then struggles to sit up, finally making it into a slumped position. "Peter?" 

"What do you remember?"

"...Not you." He rubs his temples. "My mouth tastes like something died in it. I...I...don't remember more than two drinks."

"The second was drugged by the rapist asshole you were grinding against on the dance floor."

Eyes widening in shock, face going white, Stiles looks down at himself, then shoves the blanket aside and pats at his body.

"He didn't do more than smack you. He's in a lot worse shape than you."

"Um...Huh?"

Sighing, Peter gets up to go to the kitchen to fix the young man a cup of coffee which he gratefully accepts and, when he doesn't shy away from Peter sitting next to him, he takes that as a good sign. "I must admit I was surprised to see you at our local gay bar."

Stiles' face goes red, but then he just shakes his head and takes a sip of coffee. "I...You know, I don't have to explain myself to you."

"You could show a teeny bit of gratitude."

"Um...You stopped him?" 

"We are Pack, Stiles, though, really, any decent person would have stepped in."

The look Stiles gives him makes him chuckle. He should be offended, but, really, Stiles almost always amuses him, but then the chuckle and the smirk on his face fades, because...the boy could have been seriously hurt. "You need to more careful. You're young and you're beautiful and there are always predators stronger than you with no moral compunction to ask permission."

"I'm not a girl," Stiles mumbles, eyes dropping as he takes another sip of his coffee. 

Noticing his hand trembling, Petergently takes the cup from him to set on the coffee table. "No, but, one, you shouldn't be drinking alcohol in a bar, though, to be fair, he could have just as easily drugged a non-alcoholic drink, and, two, you should never accept a drink from anyone you just met."

"...Fuck, I know that. I just...I don't usually get that lucky, to have someone that sexy..." His hands scrub through his hair before he glances over at Peter. "Um, thanks. I...no, really, thanks. I..."

"You're welcome. Now, does my daughter know you like to kiss boys?"

Stiles turns bright red again and then deflects the question with his own. "Wait, what were you doing there?"

"I'm gay," he admits easily. "Really, you didn't know?"

"Well, you didn't know I was bi."

"Touche," Peter laughs.

"So...were you there with someone?"

"I was looking to find someone. Someone of age and able to consent," he adds in a slightly scolding voice.

"Yeah, yeah, I got that, I..." Stiles glances around. "Um..."

"I ended up rescuing you instead. I sublimated my desire for sex into slamming that idiot into the wall and being the good guy."

He says it lightly, but Stiles takes it very seriously, turning slightly on the couch to face the older man. "Thank you, Peter. I wasn't ready for...I told him no. Obviously he took it badly." His voice chokes slightly and Peter sighs when he sees the glimmer of tears in those lovely eyes.

"I have his scent. I can find him. Do you want to call your dad and have the asshole arrested?"

"God, no. My dad...He doesn't...I'm not out, Peter, not even to my friends. I used a fake ID. I shouldn't have been drinking...I..."

"Okay, okay, don't panic. You don't have to do anything. I have some influence in the gay community here. I'll make sure to spread the word about this guy."

"I don't even know if Jason's his real name."

"It is. I looked in his wallet. And if that doesn't work, well, as I said, I can always find him again." Peter gives him a predatory grin, but it doesn't seem to make Stiles feel any better as one tear slides down his bruised cheek. With a sigh, he opens his arms and isn't surprised when the younger man burrows against him, silently crying.

"Jesus, I don't know why this is hitting me like this," Stiles chokes out

Not responding verbally, Peter just strokes his back until the younger man dozes off, and thinks about Pack and human Pack mates and his instinctive need to protect them, especially this young man, barely more than a boy.

And he thinks back to a night in a parking garage and a rejected offer of a bite on the wrist to do more than turn, and how crazed he had to have been to give Stiles a choice but not explain what the bite meant. How, when he came back from death, he shoved those thoughts aside because sixteen is a child and he's a monster but not that kind. To almost force a mating on a boy who he had no inkling had any sexual interest in men...He deserved to be set on fire again.

But...now he knows the interest exists, and the boy is growing into a man. Less than fourteen months until he's legally an adult.

Maybe...just maybe...

End


End file.
